Trembling - Tumblr Posts

Whumptober Prompt #20- Trembling

Okay I gotta admit, I lost my way about halfway through this.  Maybe a quarter into it.  I thought I had a good idea and then it spiraled and it is no longer a good idea.  Especially the ending.  So I’m posting it because it’s done but it’s not good.  Know that going into it, it’s Coldflash trash.  By the way, I haven’t proofread this.  Like at all.

...

Len never minded the rain, in its proper place and time.  Len always enjoyed the days when he could curl up under a blanket, make himself some hot coco, and find a nice documentary on Netflix.  But sudden storms?  Sudden storms, such as the one from the night the Particle Accelerator exploded, changing the very fabric of his city?  Storms that flew in on clouds that had no business going that fast, bringing a humidity he couldn’t stand, mystifying the weather reports so no one knew to bring an umbrella, suddenly going from dry as a bone to soaking wet in a matter of seconds?  Those he hated with a burning passion.

Len all but threw himself into Jitters, he didn’t really do coffee shops where people he didn’t trust handled his food, but it was open and he could sit for a while without having to do much.  Plus, Jitters did have some famously good hot chocolate and in this weather, he was willing to hover like a hawk while they made his drink.  Anything to warm himself up.  The line was longer than he expected for three in the afternoon, but he didn’t care.  Jitters was warm, and it felt good against his damp, shivering skin.

The barista was a young woman, with a name tag that read Iris, who took his order for the biggest hot chocolate they could make with a smile.  He thanked her, paid, and picked a spot right where he could see everything the baristas were doing.  An unfamiliar heaviness pulled at his eyelids, but he fought it, unable to trust that no one recognized the new villain Captain Cold and could potentially hurt him.  Thankfully, there were no issues with his drink when they called out the false name he’d given the barista.  After that, he tucked himself away in a quiet nook in the back, where he wouldn’t be disturbed.

“Are you alright?”  A familiar but nameless voice asked, sending a chill down his spine.

Len looked up and saw an attractive young man, tall, lanky, with green eyes, and a concerned smile on his face.

“You’re just, ah- you’re dripping wet.”  The man continued when Len didn’t answer him.  “I thought you might want a jacket.”

He held out a jacket that clearly belonged to himself, one that wouldn’t fit around Len’s shoulders if he tried.  It was a sweet gesture though, and he could appreciate the thought.

“Thanks, kid, but I don’t think that’ll fit me.”  Len replied.  “Maybe my sister.”

The kid laughed, blood rushing to his cheeks.  “I’m know I look skinny.  Got struck by lightning, can’t gain weight on me to save my life now.”

That piqued his interest.  The kid had muttered it lowly, as if chastising himself.  “Struck by lightning?”

The kid nodded.  “The night of the Particle Accelerator.  I ended up in a coma for nine months.  And now I’m like a whole size down.”

“Shit, kid.”  Len said, now noticing the skinniness did seem a little unnatural.  The kid seemed almost gaunt, with pale cheeks and deep bags under his eyes.  Being in a coma must’ve completely changed his body type.  A bit of pity entered Len’s heart.  “I’m sorry.  I can try on the jacket, couldn’t hurt.”

He wasn’t sure why he was trying on a jacket that wouldn’t fit him.  But the kid perked up immediately, and Len decided this was no mortal, it was an adorable puppy in a human suit, and well, he had always liked dogs.

So he peeled off the jacket he’d have to wring out when he did get home and took the offered clothing.  Surprisingly enough, the jacket wasn’t too tight.  It fit around his shoulders, but he couldn’t zip it up, though it came close.  How much weight had this kid lost during this coma?

“Thanks.”  Len nodded.  “Have a seat.”

The kid smiled, and joined him at the table.

“You got a name to go with the outfit?”  Len asked.

“Oh, I’m an idiot, I’m Barry.”  Barry said, blushing again.  “Barry Allen.”

“Len Winters.”  Len offered his hand and Barry eagerly shook it.

“Good to meet you, Mr. Winters.”  Barry said, laughing lightly, completely oblivious to Len’s actual name.

“Just Len.  No need for formalities when I’m literally in your clothes.”

Barry outright laughed at that.  Len allowed himself to join for a moment.

“So what brings you over here?”  Barry asked.  “I know like all the regulars around this time, and I’ve never seen you here before.”

“Oh, you work here?”  Len asked.

“My sister does.”  Barry explained.  “Iris, she works here to help pay for her journalism degree.  My job has unusual hours, so I hang out here on my break and just chat with her.  I’ve gotten to know all the regulars here, it’s really nice.”

Len smiled, of course this kid would make it a point to get to know everyone at a workplace he didn’t work at.  Seemed very in character for what little he knew of the kid.

“And your job with unusual hours?”  Len asked, entertaining himself with this kid.

“Oh, I’m a CSI with the CCPD.”  Barry replied cheerfully.

Man, Len had the shittiest luck.  Of all people who could’ve offered him a jacket, who he would’ve allowed to sit with him, it had to be a literal cop.

Len’s years of practice kept his face neutral.  Though he had to find an extraction quickly, lest this kid begin to realize who he’s just shared his jacket with.

“What’s that like?”  Len asked, before coughing away from the kid.  The cough was real, but he timed it so he could easily claim he wasn’t feeling well so he could get home.

“It’s really fun, using science to solve crimes.”  Barry frowned at him.  “I mean, it’s kinda just like being on TV except we don’t cut the corners or work the magic they do.  Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”  He denied on instinct, unused to the kid’s freely shown concern.  This kid was putting a lot of effort into a stranger.  “Probably just the weather.”

Barry pursed his lips but went along with it.  “What do you do?”

“I freelance.”  Len replied with his usual answer to anyone new.  “Odd jobs here and there, but they pay well.”

“That’s really cool.”  Barry smiled, a smile Len found entirely too infectious.  “What was your last one?”

“Uh, I worked with the train system.”  Len said, the lie slipping off his tongue easily.  “I made them more prepared for another attack should some villain attack again.”

Technically, that was true.

Barry’s eyes lit up.  “That’s so cool.  Do you do security or tech?”

“Bit of both.”  Len replied.  “Like I said, odd jobs.”

“Wow.”  Barry said.  “What do you think of the new safe that Mercury labs just designed?  Because I was looking at the schematics they released for public production and I thought that it was impenetrable but I’m sure you know more than I do.”

The kid had seemed so relieved to ask, like he’d finally found someone who understood what his life was like, understood his passions, and he hated to break the kids heart but a known thief talking about safes was not a good idea.  Not when his parka and gun were still plastered all over the news.

He forced a cough a little more, which set off a reaction and his lungs actually tried to escape his chest.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”  Barry asked, his voice laced with such unease and worry.  “You’re trembling.”

“I said I’m fine, kid.”  Len said, ignoring the tremors in his hands.  “Let me give you your jacket back.  Think I’m gonna head home.”

Barry opened his mouth to protest but Len simply took off the now damp jacket, though it sent a shiver down his spine.  He didn’t realize it had been so cold in here.

“Thanks for the jacket.”  Len made to stand up but his legs didn’t work as well as they should’ve and he stumbled.

Barry gently pushed him back into his seat.  “I’m really sorry, but you seem really sick.”

Barry put a hand on his forehead, and Len flinched at Barry’s cold hands.

“You seem warm.”  Barry muttered.  “Did you drive here?”

Len shook his head, cursing his own weakness.  “Took the subway.”  He was a goddamn supervillain, the number one nemesis of the Flash, and he couldn’t even go out into the rain without getting sick.

“Look, I know you don’t really know me and I don’t really know you but can I offer you a ride home?  I can steal my sister’s car.”  Barry offered.

“You don’t drive?”  Len found himself asking.

“Nah.”  Barry said.  “I like to run.  Can’t afford a car anyways.”

He knew he shouldn’t get in a car with strangers, knew he definitely shouldn’t get into a CSI’s car, even if it was his sisters, but he was feeling worse by the minute so he decided to screw logic and accept the generosity of the strange young man before him.

“Well, I suppose I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.  Lead the way.”

Barry smiled, relieved.  “Wait here, I’ll get Iris’s keys.”

Len watched as Barry walked over to his sister, the lovely barista who had taken his order, and he pointed back at him.  The woman frowned.  If Len had the strength, he would’ve run right then and there.  The kid had to have recognized him, or maybe something had been left at the train station- no, he was careful, he never left evidence, was the cold gun traceable?

“Whoa, you okay?”  Barry asked, returning with keys in hand.  “You look like you’re about to be sick.”

“‘M fine.”  Len muttered, squashing the nausea that had been building in his stomach.  He couldn’t outrun any cop like this, no matter the adrenaline in his system.  His legs felt weak, his chest hurt, and fatigue pulled at his eyes.  Mick would have to break him out and he hated when Mick had to do that.  It always left such a mess.

“Okay, well, her car is parked back in the employee lot.”  Barry explained.  “Come on.  Let’s get you home.”

Barry offered his hand and Len took it.  May as well not tell the kid he knew the kid was onto him.

“So Len, where do you live?”  Barry asked, gently wrapping Len’s arm around his shoulder.  The kid had some strong muscles underneath the pale skin, so he wondered if even the coma story was true.

“On Grand.”  He answered.  Grand was one of the main streets he used to get home so it was a safe enough answer.

“North Grand or South?”  Barry asked.

“South.”

Barry nodded.  “Got it.  So I’m taking the seventeen to exit on what, Tower Street?”

“The seventeen just past Tower.”  Len replied, answering honestly so he had less of a walk to lose the cop.  “On Crimson.”

Barry nodded and they arrived at a beater car.

“This is her car?”  Len asked, before his mind could tell his mouth to shut up.  “It’s older than you.”

Barry laughed.  “Yeah, this is Gloria.  She’s a 2002 but she’s still going strong.”

Len nodded as he got into the car.  Inside was kept in good condition so this Iris did try to take care of what she had.

“Gloria was the cheapest car her dad would let her buy.”  Barry said, still going on.  “Joe is really protective, her mom died in a car accident.”

“Joe?”  Len asked.  “You call your father by his first name?”

“Joe isn’t my real dad.”  Barry blushed.  “Well he is.  Actually, Joe adopted me after something happened to my dad.  My dad is Henry Allen, but Joe took me in when I was eleven.”

Henry Allen, that name rang a bell.  A bell in Iron Heights, a doctor he’d often seen in solitary to protect him from the gangs and families.

“That was nice of him.”  Len responded simply.

“Yeah, Joe’s a really good guy.”  Barry said, getting onto the freeway.  “He treats me like his own so Iris is my sister and Joe is kinda my dad but I call my dad Dad so it gets a little confusing.”

“Makes sense.”  Len answered, his nose stuffing up.  He wasn’t sure if he’d already been sick before the rain or something in his hot coco was making him sicker.  This cold was coming on almost unnaturally fast.

For someone without a car, Barry drove pretty well, easily managing talking and driving. The constant chatter was keeping Len awake so he was grateful for it.  He hated to give up his safehouse off grand but what was necessary was necessary.

“What about you?”  Len realized that Barry had now focused his attention back to him.  “Do you have any siblings?”

“A brother.”  Len lied.  He and Mick could be called brothers in a decent light, had passed for family numerous times.  It had always worked.  “Older.  Dominic.”

“Is he an asshole?”  Barry asked, chuckling.  “I’ve heard that older brothers are always assholes.”

“He can be.”  Len allowed himself to answer honestly.  Dominic Winters didn’t exist so it didn’t matter how Mick was described.  “Sometimes he’s the biggest dumbass in the world, making too many decisions out of spite instead of thinking things through, but he always gets my ass out of trouble so I can’t hate him too much.”

Barry smiled, getting into the correct lane for their exit.  “I know what that’s like.  Iris fights Joe on a lot of the overly controlling stuff and I get dragged in more often than not but they’re my family.  I wouldn’t trade them for the world.”

“What about your mother?”  Len asked, trying to get the conversation off himself.  “You haven’t mentioned her.”

Barry’s eyes went solemn, his body slumping slightly.  “She’s dead.”

“I’m sorry, kid.”  And he was.  He knew what it felt like to lose your mother at a young age.

“It’s okay.”  Barry replied, making his way to Grand.  “She died when I was eleven, it’s been a while.”

Ah, that was why he remembered Allen’s name.  The doctor that murdered his wife but now suddenly couldn’t harm a fly.  Copying a fifty year old movie would not get him out of prison, no matter how “original” Allen thought the move.

“Still, I know what it’s like to lose your parents.”  Len said, casually omitting that his father was still alive.  Though, if he had his druthers, it wouldn’t be for long.

“You do?”  Barry asked, sounding relieved and guilty and sad all at the same time.  “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Likewise.”  Len said, seeing the shortcut to his apartment pass by.  “This next one is me.”

“Cool.”  Barry pulled into a gated driveway.  “Will it open?”

“I’ve got my keys.”  Len said.  “Thanks for the ride.”

“Of course.”  Barry said.

As Len was getting out, Barry shouted, “Wait!”

Len froze, ready to run at any moment.

“Can I… can I give you my number?”  Barry asked, blushing wildly.

Len stared at him.  That had not been the direction he’d been expecting.

“Okay I gotta be honest, I didn’t exactly just come over out of the goodness of my heart.”  Barry admitted.  “I was checking you out and Iris made your drink and she said if I didn’t go over and talk to you, she was writing my number on your cup.”

Len gaped at him.  “That… was a surprise.”

“Oh my god, I told her you weren’t into men!”  Barry groaned, hitting his head on the steering wheel.  “I’m so sorry, just forget I asked, I can’t believe myself-”

“I didn’t say I was straight, I’m just married.”  Len said, hating to break the kids heart but he wasn’t going to date some CSI.  He knew the rules better than that.  “I’m flattered though.  My husband would adore you.”

That was true.  If he and Mick were married for more than legal reasons of spousal privilege, and Barry weren’t a CSI, Mick would’ve loved to bring Barry into the mix.  Young, naive, puppy dog eyes, that was Mick’s entire type.

Barry sighed.  “I’m still sorry.”

“Don’t be, kid.”  Len said.  “Word of advice from an old man. Always shoot your shot.  You never know who’s gonna say yes.  I thought my husband was straight for the longest time.”

Barry managed a small chuckle.

“Thanks for the ride, Barry Allen.”  Len said, finally getting out of the car for real this time.  “Maybe we’ll see each other again soon.  Next time, hopefully my sinuses won’t be trying to kill me.”

“Goodbye Len Winters.”  Barry said as Len closed the door.

Len headed to the gated community, easily and discreetly picking the lock.  He knew this community, there were two entrances. He could easily fool the CSI into thinking this was his apartment.  As he walked home, still shivering, still coughing every little while, he thought of the cute CSI and what his life could have been like if his name had actually been Len Winters.

Whumptober days 17-20 - "Stay with me"; Muffled Scream; Asphyxiation; Trembling

A combination fill for @whumptober2019​, since I’ve been absent for a few days. It’s a bit longer, so I’ve added a read-more line. Be careful of the triggers that start showing up after that line - there’s some fairly graphic violence, including murder, in this story. Also available on Ao3.

----- ----- -----

It happened so suddenly that there wasn’t anything to do. One moment, it was a regular day where they were calmly wandering the streets, discussing where they should go for dinner.

The next, there was a dart sticking out of Bucky’s neck and he was fading fast.

Reacting quickly, Tony made sure he didn’t hit the ground too roughly as he fell unconscious, pressing the alert button on the side of his watch at the same time. Considering the efficiency, it wasn’t likely to get them help in time, but at least the others would know something was up and hopefully manage to get something set up.

When the men got out of the van, they were wearing masks to make sure they were unrecognizable. But Tony knew that insignia, knew he couldn’t let HYDRA get Bucky back. Not like this.

So he fought, going at them with everything he had. It became clear that they weren’t after him, not at all - if he’d let them, they’d have dragged Bucky with them and left Tony right there on the street to look after them and worry. But he didn’t let that happen, using every single technique any of the other Avengers had ever taught him to make sure he did not get separated from Bucky.

In the end, realizing they needed to get away, they cursed and threw him into the van as well, into the same cage that had been intended for just Bucky.

It was a tight fit, and it left Tony unable to fight them any more as they locked it behind them, but at least he was still with Bucky. And as long as they were together, they could figure out some way to escape, hopefully.

(And if not, well, Tony wouldn’t have been able to live with himself if he’d just let them take Bucky.)

Even though he’d been prepared for it, it still hurt when they dragged him out of the cage, prepared as they were for his resistance and too many of them around to fight. He curled into himself as they kicked at him, trying to keep them from getting at his chest and face. Silently, he suspected some of them were getting in some revenge for some of the hits he’d managed earlier.

He knew there wouldn’t be anything he could do, not if they decided to drag him away. There might only have been five of them earlier, that had to deal with getting Bucky off the street as quickly as possible and that also had to contend with Tony’s fighting, but they had a lot more time and a lot more people now.

So he was grateful when he was dragged to the same room Bucky was, though they handcuffed him to the cot in there while they put Bucky’s unconscious body on the other side, where some special (and probably super-strength resistant) cuffs had been attached to the wall.

Unfortunately, they didn’t leave them alone. Instead, there were three men standing inside the door and no doubt some reserve outside.

It could have been anywhere between a few minutes to an hour before Bucky started stirring - considering his tension, Tony honestly couldn’t tell, and it wasn’t like it was really important anyway.

The moment Bucky opened his eyes, one of the men started speaking. “Желание… Ржавый…”

“No,” he groaned, shaking his head. It was obvious he was still affected by whatever they’d used to knock him out, since he barely even managed to struggle against the chains like he obviously wanted.

“Семнадцать…”

“Bucky, stay with me,” Tony implored, even though he knew it probably wouldn’t help. Not if they had the trigger words. “Stay with me, please.”

As much as he didn’t think it would help, clearly HYDRA thought differently. He grunted as one of them hit him, hard, making his head smack into the cot roughly. Then, before he could even try to get Bucky’s attention again, the other shoved a gag into his mouth.

“Рассвет…”

Though his words were muffled through the gag, Tony didn’t give up on trying to get Bucky’s attention, calling out his name. It seemed to be working when, rather than weakly struggling against the chains, Bucky looked at him instead, eyes pained.

“Печь…”

Unfortunately, HYDRA seemed to notice as much as well. Before Tony could even try to avoid it, a solid boot came down on his lower leg. He couldn’t help but scream into the gag as he could feel the bones breaking.

“Девять…”

His breathing came in gasps, made more difficult by the gag blocking his airways and his eyes and nose filling up due to the pain. He refused to cry, though, refused to give Goons One and Two the satisfaction. Instead, he clenched his teeth around the gag, trying his best to steady his breathing so he wouldn’t end up suffocating.

“Добросердечный…”

Bucky was trying to pull out his chains one more, except now it was to get to Tony. There was no doubt he could still hear the words the asshole was saying, but it wasn’t something he was focusing on anymore.

“Возвращение на Родину…”

It took everything Tony had not to whimper at the pain rushing through him in time with his heartbeat. Instead, stubbornly, he locked eyes with Bucky, saying everything he couldn’t through the gag in his mouth. You can do this. I’m here for you. Please stay with me. Don’t let them take you again. We can do this. I am not leaving you.

“Один…”

 Please, Bucky… Don’t leave me, either.

“Грузовой вагон…”

Considering how warm Bucky’s eyes usually were, it was eerie to see how flat they went the moment those final words were spoken. He wasn’t completely unfamiliar - the inquisitive look was still obviously there, though less curious and more analytical. His face had gone still as well, no emotion allowed to shine through anymore.

More than his broken leg, the broken look in Bucky’s eyes made Tony want to cry, and he trembled with the effort not to. It had taken so long to get him comfortable around the Avengers, to get him to trust that HYDRA wouldn’t just be able to get a hold on him again, and here they were.

And there was nothing Tony could do except hope that there was something of Bucky left, enough that it would make HYDRA lose their hold on him enough.

“Солдат?” It was the asshole that had been saying the trigger words out loud, not happy with being ignored.

Some of Tony’s hope died when Bucky - no, the Winter Soldier - instantly replied. “Я готов отвечать.” His voice was nearly as flat as his eyes, though Tony couldn’t help but notice how those gray eyes flicked back to him briefly before focusing once again on the guy that should be able to command him now.

Tony wanted to smack the smirk off the HYDRA asshole’s face, but had to settle for a glare that could have burned him alive.

“Very good,” Asshole said, grinning as he looked straight at Tony. He was fully confident he had Bucky under control now, as evidenced by the fact that he walked straight over to undo the cuffs. Disappointingly, Bucky did not spontaneously attack him, instead standing up slowly.

His normal grace was still obvious, though much like everything else, it seemed more calculated now. There was no unnecessary movement, no casual twitches, no tapping his thumb against his fingers the way Bucky usually did when standing still (or tapping his fingers against Tony’s hand when he was holding it).

“Now…” Tony really didn’t like the look in Asshole’s eyes as he looked down at him. “Break his other leg.”

He couldn’t help his slight flinch at that, no matter how much he didn’t want to show weakness. The broken leg was painful enough on its own, but the idea of Bucky being the one to break the other one…

For a few long moments, the Winter Soldier just looked at him, assessing. Then, just as calmly, he turned to his ‘handler’. “Нет.”

It felt like everyone in the room stopped breathing at that, tension rising quickly. Never before had the Winter Soldier outright refused, not like this, and it was clear HYDRA had no idea how to deal with it.

To be fair, neither did Tony, but since no one was breaking his other leg, he was fine riding this one out from the side.

“What!?” Tony honestly could have told Asshole that getting pissed at the Winter Soldier might not be the best idea when he didn’t seem to have full control of him, but clearly that hadn’t occurred to him. And Tony himself was too busy trying to breathe through his pain to be able to do all that much. “I said, break his other leg!”

Before any of them could even react, the Winter Soldier had moved, metal hand closing around Asshole’s neck.

Goons One and Two jumped into motion, but not nearly quick enough. The Soldier grabbed the gun from the guy’s belt, shooting both of them straight through the forehead before they’d even been able to aim their own guns.

In the meantime, he was still choking Asshole, who was starting to look increasingly purple as he tried to grab at the Soldier’s metal arm. It had no effect, its strength far too much for a regular human to be able to do anything against it, and slowly his struggles grew weaker.

Tony couldn’t say he felt any regret when Asshole joined Goons One and Two on the floor. He wasn’t too sure what to do about the Winter Soldier, though, who appraised him carefully before approaching.

He tried to still his trembling as much as possible - the Soldier had said no, had refused to listen to the guy who’d just recited all of his code words, and had just taken all of them no. After being told to hurt Tony. So he tried to remind himself as much as possible that the Soldier, despite everything else, had just refused to hurt him.

The Soldier was astonishingly gentle as he took the gag out of Tony’s mouth, kneeling down so they were at almost the same height. Then, without saying a word, he looked down at the cuffs keeping Tony tied to the cot and yanked, ripping them loose from the cot without hurting Tony’s wrists.

Before he could even start to think of what to say or do, the Soldier himself spoke up, sounding far more hesitant than he had before.. “Лучик?”

He couldn’t help his blush at that. Being called a ray of sunshine by the Winter Soldier was about the last thing he’d been expecting. “What’s up, Winter Wonderland?” he asked, trying for casual. The fact that he sounded like his throat had been sandpapered probably didn’t help, but he thought he pulled it off admirably.

And when the Soldier said “я готов отвечать” again, it sounded less strained and more like he was choosing to let Tony be the one to decide.

It was the biggest show of trust Tony could’ve ever imagined, and he was determined not to let the Soldier down. Not after what he’d just done for Tony, after making his own decision and turning away from HYDRA for Tony. And when they got back to the rest of the Avengers, they were going to figure this entire thing out, Tony and Bucky and the Soldier together.

They’d figure it out.

How about some dating headcanons for Weather Report?

A/n: ugh this was kinda shit but whatever, I tried to be as in character as possible but probs gotten more occ as I went along.

Being forcefully dragged into the ghost room by the likes of Emporio or Joylene where you met Weather Report was the catalyst of your relationship believe it or not.

Intimidated by him at first you soon learnt that Weather was in fact a sweetheart for a man of few words. For starters his habit of standing on his tippy toes was absolutely adorable to you yet you sometimes wondered how he could stand on them for so long without straining a muscle or otherwise. His piercing blue eyes whilst seemingly all knowing were also as unbearably lost due to his amnesia. So whenever he rested he head against your shoulder or within you lap as your laying down, peering up at you like a cat awaiting long overdue affection, you found yourself caving quite quickly to his silent demands of your love.

His love languages would be quality time and slight physical touch, though the second one was more or less behind closed doors rather then explicitly in public. Such as snuggling up against one another in the Ghost Room where’d you listen intently as he read novels with his deep, baritone voice, sending you adrift in sleep in a matter of seconds. Not that he’s ashamed or anything but more so out of his concern that it would disrupt your comfortability; he has a tendency to put your well being and safety before his own which you feared would become his Achilles heel

Weather reassured those worries with hushed sweet words and reassuring squeezes all the while remaining firm eye contact with you as if trying to convey his every emotion into them so you’d understand that if he were to die knowing he had succeeded in protecting you from harm, he’d be happy to subsume to his wounds.

Obviously not getting the point of your concerns, you’d lightly smack his bicep telling him that wasn’t what you meant before going into a tangent on who was gonna read TV guides with you and such. All the while not noticing how his stormy blue eyes seemed to lighten in colour and a smile spread across his lips the longer you went on, touched at the impact his presence had on you during a short amount of time into dating him.

He’s protective, insanely so when it comes to you that anyone he believes poses a threat to your safety is being glared down as he walks besides you, placing a arm by your side, drawing you into his side all without letting his eyes leave the person for a single second. It may or may not also be an excuse for him to hold you so closely under the eyes of other inmates, will he admit to it? Yeah just solely for the fact that he’d watch your expression change into a flustered one within a blink of an eye.

Touch starved to hell and back so at first when you laid a hand against his shoulder or brush up against his side, he stiffens like stone before relaxing into it until sooner or later he craves it like a drug and would find and matriculate ways where he’d be able to feel your touch once more. He’s slick with it but you’d always tell him that he doesn’t have to put such effort for something he could’ve just asked for but Weather likes the reaction they get.

During times of stress you always knew you could count on Weather to bring you back to reality. It pains him to see you so lost in hard times, feeling as though you were being pushed closer to the edge by your own two hands and in times like these weather would take you to a less populated room and just hold you against his chest, allowing you to hear his heart as he held your hand against his chest to remind you that he was there to brave this with you before pressing kisses into your skin.

He has a way with words i believe that I wouldn’t put it past him to write cute little well written letters and get them to you somehow. They would consist of things that reminded the man of you, right down to the littlest detail, and how he longed to hold you in his arms as you both drift off to sleep within each other’s presence after particularly rough moments, that left you a little more loved with each and every re-read.

Don’t contradict me but I firmly believe that he smells like how grass would smell after rain with some hints of natural musk. It’s relaxing that when in a sleepy mood you would cling to him, head buried deep into his neck as you breathed him in slowly to linger on this feeling for as long as you could before you were forced to separate.

Trembling hands from micro prompts

Yule

Trembling

Micro Story Prompt

Kate sat next to her fiancé of five hours at the Mindy family's dinner table. Yule stared absently at the centerpiece, not even reacting to her presence. She laid her hand on his.

"Are you alright? Your hands are trembling," she asked quietly.

Her touch shook him from his thoughts. He looked at her and half-smiled. "Y-Yeah, I'm cool." He straightened his back and sat up in the chair. He interlaced his fingers with hers.

"I- I just thought we would have more time," he said. "I would have liked actually marrying you."

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